


Lost on a Deserted Island

by KoolShrike



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Humor, Strong Language, This isn't a serious thing that happens but just in case:, Wilderness Survival, mentions of cannibalism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27798580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoolShrike/pseuds/KoolShrike
Summary: One day, Donald Duck wakes up on a deserted island with no recollection of the events that lead up to him getting there. All he knows for sure is that his close friends, Panchito Pistoles and José Carioca, are hiding something from him. Which will the caballeros succumb to first; the heat of the blazing sun, or their fractured relationship?
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26





	1. The Riff

**Author's Note:**

> Before anything else, a big thank you to my good friends who helped me with the Spanish and Portuguese! 
> 
> This whole fic is based off of a joke I made with friends about how the three caballeros would fare on a deserted island, and it was too fun not to write! This was started just under two years ago, but I never got around to posting it until now. It’s still in progress because I’m a big procrastinator, but I plan to finish it at some point. I have quite a bit of it written up already, but I’ll have to proofread/edit it before posting, which also may take a while.  
> I’d also like to mention that my portrayal of José is based mostly on his appearance in his own Zé comic series, rather than DT17, because I found that to be way funnier. The events of this fic are loosely based off of actual canon events that were exaggerated to better fit my sense of humor. (this was written before 'Moonvasion' aired)
> 
> Anyhow, I hope you enjoy reading!

Donald stepped up onto the stage, standing carefully behind the large, red curtain, which was the only thing between him and the massive crowd of people, all of which came to see him perform on his radical red guitar that night. He could clearly hear all of the commotion from the crowd.  
The sounds gave him an idea, but it didn’t even come close to preparing him for the sheer amount of fans awaiting him when he gently parted the curtains, sticking his big bill through and taking a peek. There must have been hundreds- No, _Thousands_ of them out there!  
He firmly gripped the neck of his guitar and tugged at the collar of his shirt, trembling with fear.  
The duck was so much more nervous than he was before he witnessed the mass of people, and now, he regretted that peek. He pulled his head back and took a deep breath. He had never played in front of such a large crowd before, and he started to doubt himself. He’d slip up for sure if he performed now! Why did he agree to this gig…?

He sat down, his back to the curtain, being careful not to fall through. He sighed and closed his eyes. He thought briefly about packing up right then and there, until he felt a minuscule, baby-like hand gently touch his shoulder. Donald looked up and saw his nephew. Ah, yes... The blue one.

“You can’t give up now, Uncle Donald!” Dewey began, “You’re already so close!”

“Yeah, Uncle Donald! Just think of all the money we’d make from this!” Louie added.

“There’s roughly an 87.92% chance that you’ll completely blow it and embarrass yourself in front of hundreds more people than usual, bringing shame to your family for generations to come... But you still shouldn’t quit!” Huey said as well.

“That is right!” Another familiar voice joined in, “You know what they say, Donald. ‘The show must go on!’”

It was Panchito Pistoles! One of Donald’s old buddies… He lightly strummed his guitar as he emerged from the shadows, smiling in hopes that he’d make Donald feel a little better.  
Donald smiled too, glad that his family (& Panchito) were there for him that night… but, that smile soon faded away as he stood up and let his head hang low, leaving his instrument on the ground.

“I’m sorry, boys… And Panchito...” Donald said in his usual, unintelligible way of speaking, “As much as I appreciate the encouragement, and as much it pains me to abandon ship like this, I think it would be better for everyone if I just went home now.”

Before the disappointed silence could last much longer, José Carioca, another one of Donald’s pals quickly sprinted over there and grabbed a hold of Donald’s shoulders, shaking him vigorously.

“Donald! You cannot just give up on your one chance at fame and fortune!” José yelled, ceasing to shake his friend.  
“Here!” He added, swiftly planting a big kiss on Donald’s cheek with his authentic parrot lips, “It is for good luck! Now _GO!_ ”

Before Donald could recover from being shook so violently, José started to push him onto stage, and Panchito quickly passed the guitar from the floor into Donald’s hands.

When the curtains parted and Donald was fully on stage, the crowd went wild. He realized he never put his earplugs in... Oops.  
The blinding lights, the roaring audience, and the brain joggling from José disoriented Donald, almost making him fall over, but he caught himself.  
He looked back to the curtain and saw his nephews and his best friends cheering him on. He took one big breath as he heard the drums for the song start up. He plucked at his guitar strings, and turned towards the crowd again.

Though he was still filled with a ton of fear and anxiety, he was filled slightly more with determination, and went for it.

To Donald’s, and quite frankly everyone else’s surprise, his solo was amazing! Never before had anyone heard someone shred so sickly! Riff so wickedly! Donald was on fire!  
Literally. The friction from his strumming had ignited his fingers.

As soon as the song ended, he realized his hand was burning. He shoved it into his mouth in an attempt to cool it down, then, he heard the audience cheering… For him? Yes! They loved him! Panchito and José rushed on stage and lifted Donald into the air, also cheering for him.

“ _Donald! Donald! Donald!_ ” Everyone chanted loudly.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a fancy looking man in a suit came up to him with a large piece of paper and said, “Donald Duck! You won a check for a million dollars!”

Donald could hardly believe it! This was the day he always dreamed of!

Before he could take the check, he noticed the voice of the crowd change. It started to sound… Deeper? And they got louder. Something Donald didn’t think was possible. He looked again and the suited man was gone! And so were the triplets! And Panchito, and José… The crowd was gone too. Just a sea of darkness, and an overwhelming scream that kept getting louder and louder, Deeper and Deeper. The stage began to fall apart in chunks, floating off into the abyss. Donald desperately leaped from piece to piece, trying to stay alive, but the last one he could reach split in half beneath him, sending him plummeting down, down, down... Getting swallowed whole by the darkness, all while the hellish voice continued to howl his name, over and over…

“ _Donald! … Donald! … Donald!_ ”  
Then, the voice suddenly started gradually getting quieter again, and more of this realm. In fact, after a while, it sounded kind of like… José?

“KWAAHHblbrh” Donald cried out, sitting up almost instantly. He looked around, and they weren’t on a stage anymore. In front of him he saw none other than José… And Panchito.

“¡Gracias a Dios!” Panchito cheered, “Donald is alive!”

“Yes! We thought for a moment that we had lost you in the crash...” José said.

“Cr… Crash?” Donald asked confusedly. He lifted his hand up to his face, and realized it was covered in sand. All of him was covered in sand. He jumped up to his feet. It only now occurred to him that the best day of his life was… all a dream… And he is now on what seemed to be an island of some kind.

Donald growled, throwing his arms around aggressively and jumping up and down. “ _Dohh…_. _**PHOOEY!**_ ” He yelled into the distance, stamping his feet to the ground one last time.


	2. Let Us Remind You

“Where in the world are we?!” Donald asked loudly, throwing his hands in the air.

“Good question!” Panchito responded, “I… Do not know. We were hoping you would have an answer, since you were driving…”

“Driving?” Donald asked, not recalling driving them anywhere. “When did I-...”

“Ah! It would make sense that you wouldn’t remember. You must have gotten ambrosia from the crash! I read about this once.” José said, not having read about that ever.

“You mean… Amnesia?” Donald asked.

“That is what I said!” Cried José as he got up and dusted off his coat.

“Ambrosia or Amnesia, it does not matter, for I will fill you in on all the details.” Panchito declared.

“I can help too!” Offered José.

“It was a nice and clear evening,” Panchito began, making an arching gesture with his hands and allowing the story to transition into a flashback.  
“José and I happened to be strolling by the docks when I had spotted you, Donald, struggling to get your boat started. Being the fine and courteous gentleman I am, I offered a hand.”

“And so did I!” José added.

“Yes, and so did José. Anyways,” Panchito continued, “We climbed aboard to give you a hand. Little did we know that the boat was very far beyond repair. Once we had offered to help you out, you insisted that you take us on a trip, Donald, saying something about how nice and romantic the night was.”

“ _Hey…_ ” Donald interrupted, “I don’t remember ever saying anything about a romantic night. Not to you two, anyways. That doesn’t sound like me at all.”

“Of course you don’t remember!” José explained, “You have Ambrosia! Now, let the story finish.”

“Thank you, José. So, we accepted your offer after many, many persuasion attempts, and rode with you. However, not too long after our voyage began, I could sense a storm was on its way! And yet, Donald, you insisted we keep going.”

“And then!” José interrupted, taking the spotlight from Panchito, “We entered the storm’s harsh winds, nearly blowing us off the boat! Finally, Donald came to his senses and attempted to head back to shore.”

“But!” Panchito butted in, “Donald couldn’t control it, could he, José?”

“Not at all, Panchito!” José agreed, “I had to step in and take the wheel! I had to wrestle the current for control over the ship as it nearly tossed us overboard!”

“And José couldn’t do it alone, so I joined in!”

“That’s right! Together, we were _almost_ able to direct us to safety!”

“‘Almost’ is right. Donald couldn’t keep his mitts off the steering wheel, and sent us all off course, right into a deserted island! That’s what happened, right José?”

“One-hundred percent!” José responded. The two nodded at each other and shook hands energetically. Towards the end of their strangely long handshake, Panchito shot José a death glare, and José continued to smile awkwardly.  
Donald squinted, barely believing any of that. He thought it sounded very out of character for all of them.

After José and Panchito were done telling that tale of epic proportions, a fourth voice suddenly came from the distance, about thirty feet away, “Great story, Ho-say and, uh… The red one. Now if you could quiet down, that’d be lit. I’m trying to indulge in some ‘Requieters 4’ watching on my phone. Ion Man is about to get hashtag rekt!”

It was, unfortunately, Mark Beaks, CEO of Waddle. He laid back on a hammock that he made out of palm tree leaves, his eyes fixed to the screen in his hands. Despite their situation, he didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

“H… _How long have you been there?_ ” Donald asked, absolutely sure he didn’t see Mark earlier.

“Do you remember how many breads you’ve eaten in your life?” Mark responded casually.

Donald looked around rapidly in confusion, and looked back at Mark Beaks, “... **What?** ”

“Tsk, You are such a meme, old man. It’s a movie quote, get with the times, LOL.”

“Why, I oughtta--” Donald said, rolling up his already very short sleeve and marching over to Mr. Beaks. Before he could get very far, Panchito grabbed hold of his shoulder.

“Espera, Donald. Hold on a moment.” Panchito said, “As satisfying as it would be to beat down Mark Beaks, we have better things to be worried about.”

“Sim. We have to find a way to get off of this island. Or at least survive the night.” José added.

Donald sighed and turned to his friends. “You’re right… What’s next?”

“We should definitely make a fire.” Panchito decided.

They all nodded, then Panchito and Donald walked off towards the abundance of trees, looking to the ground for some branches or dry leaves, as they didn’t have any tools for cutting them down themselves. Meanwhile, José stayed behind and watched.

“Geez...” José murmured to himself, “That sure does look like a lot of work.”

He sat down on the sand and placed his hat in his lap, scratched his head, and yawned. All this standing around was making him tired…

After dumping the sticks and leaves in a pile, Donald noticed José’s absence. He dusted the dirt off his hands and looked to José, who was just about to fall asleep.

“José!” Donald yelled, startling the snoring parrot, “Why don’t you make yourself useful and gather some rocks?”

“Yeah, Ho-say! Make yourself useful.” Mark Beaks chimed in, completely uncalled for. “Ugh, another dead one.” He tossed his phone into the ocean, and pulled out a new one.

“Why don’t you make yourself useful, Beaks, for once in your life, and use one of your seventy-eight cell phones to call for help!!” Donald demanded, tossing his arms into the air.

“Well, _DUH!_ ” Mark beaks answered, “That’s what I’ve _been_ trying to do for the past two days!”

Donald went silent for a moment after hearing Mark’s words.  
“... T-... Two days?” he asked, “ _Two days?!_ ” he repeated louder, turning to Panchito, who was coming over with an armful of branches.  
“ _How long have we been here??_ ”

“We’ve been here… Almost three days, I’d say.” José answered, standing up and rubbing his eyes.

“I’ve been out for Two Days?!” Donald shrieked.

“Sí.” Said Panchito as he dropped off the wood into the pile, “It gave us a scare when you didn’t get up the first day. … And José tried to rob your unconscious bod--”

“PANCHITO!” José interjected, “Do not say such things about me!”

“But that is what you were DOING!!”

“No!! I was merely checking his vitals…” José explained.

“Really?” Panchito asked rhetorically, “Then tell me, _José_ , which vital signs were you checking _in Donald’s pockets?_ ”

The two went back and forth with each other for quite some time, leaving Donald to watch in annoyance. Donald soon realized he was the only one who should really be yelling in this situation, and so he joined in, screeching incomprehensibly.

All three of them went on, and on, and on, and on... For at least a good five minutes, until they noticed a flash from behind and the simulated snap of a camera shutter.

“Hmh, yep. This one’s going in my cringe compilation.” Mark Beaks said, now taking a video of the trio from about five feet away.

They stopped and turned to him as he walked away laughing.  
Donald looked down and sighed disappointedly, never wanting the day to end like that.

“... I miss my boys…” He whimpered, sadly walking over to a tree and plopping down at the base. “I just hope they’re okay.”

The other two Caballeros looked to each other and sighed as well. They both went to the same tree and fell on either side of Donald, causing the sand beneath them to kick up.  
José placed his hand on Donald’s and looked to him.

“We will be back home in no time.” He said reassuringly.

“Sí, Donald. All we have to do is stick together, and we will be fine.” Panchito smiled.

“... You’re both right!” Donald said, looking up, “We just gotta stick together…”

There was a brief period of silence before José spoke again, “Stick together _and_ light that fire. It’s getting rather chilly…”

“... Oh, right.” Panchito and Donald simultaneously muttered.


	3. Making Home

The next morning, after a few hours of hard work from the Three Caballeros — at least two of them, anyways — they had set up something that vaguely resembled a campground. With teamwork, they moved several logs around the fire in the center and made a roasting spit for cooking the accumulation of coconuts that José and Panchito had collected while Donald was unconscious. A poor attempt was also made at making a shelter between some trees. The palm tree leaves didn’t hold anything together very well...

Donald placed down a bunch of coconuts and took a moment to wipe the sweat off his forehead.  
“Phew… It sure is convenient that these coconuts are all naturally unhusked.” Donald stated, resting his hands on his hips.

He was pretty proud of what he and his friends accomplished, and was curious about what Mark Beaks was up to, since he hadn’t said anything obnoxious in quite some time. Curious, Donald walked over and took a peek.

Beaks was still lying on his belly in his inexplicably well-made hammock, scrolling through some unknown feed. Every once in a while he’d switch to the notes app and write something down, then go back to the feed.  
Donald made his way over to take a closer look. Yep, that was definitely a Twitter feed, somehow.

“Hey… I thought you said you had no connection.” Donald said, peeking over Mark Beaks’ shoulder.

Mark very swiftly changed to the camera and took a picture of himself and Donald, then went right back to the notes app.

“I _don’t_ have a connection. I just remembered I took some very long screenshots with my experimental app and I wanted to relive some buzzworthy moments.”

He sat up on the hammock and started to look through photos, quickly swiping left on the phone with his thumb.

“I wish I had wifi right about now. I’d be able to share all 2,478 photos I took while on this island, though the selfie with you might make me lose followers.”

“Hey!” Donald yelled, offended.

“That’s it!” Mark announced, jumping to his feet and raising his phone above his head, “My next big thing will be extending the radius of my personal wifi!!”

He brought the phone back below his chest and wrote his words down in the notes amongst his many other ideas.

“... Maybe for a monthly fee I’ll let Waddle customers have access to more wifi too- Oh shoot, it’s dead.” Immediately, he tossed the phone he was using into the sea, pulled out another, then sat back down on the hammock.  
“It’s hard to keep track of schemes when my phones keep dying. I should extend the battery life too. And by that, I obviously mean make someone else do it.”

Donald rolled his eyes and continued bringing the coconuts to their shelter, making light footprints in the sand as he walked. He placed what he was holding down next to the very large pile of other coconuts.  
While Panchito worked on fixing up the little hut, José sat on the ground and just pointed at all the coconuts, seemingly pointing to the same few bunches several times.

“What are you doing, José?” Donald asked.

“Counting.” José responded, “We definitely have a number of coconuts. That, I can say for sure. More than three.” He added.

“That’s good.”

“Yes. It will last us at least until the end of the day.”

“I would hope so.” Donald said before turning to Panchito, who had just finished rebuilding the shelter. This time it looked as though it would stay together. He went over to his friend and bent over slightly to get a closer look, and properly admired the craftsmanship.  
Yes, while it was very well built, there was a small problem with the design.

“Wow, that looks great, Panchito!” Donald began, “But…”

“Yes? ¿Cuál es el problema?” Panchito asked, hunched over with fists full of twigs and makeshift rope.  
He looked up at Donald for a moment with his hat missing from his head, appearing mildly deranged.

“Well, it’s just… A little small.” Donald explained.

Panchito squinted at Donald, then looked to his hut again. Only being about big enough to shelter a single foot- maybe two feet if you’re determined, it was indeed too small for the three caballeros.

“Maldita sea...” Panchito muttered under his breath, tossing the sticks onto the ground.

“It’s okay, Panchito, we have the whole day.” Donald said, beginning to walk to a nearby tree.

He sat down to rest and sighed deeply. It was especially sunny that day, so preparing for the potential next few days on the island would be hard work.  
Donald took that moment to reflect on everything that has happened thus far. He closed his eyes and thought to himself for a little bit… Then remembered something slightly off.

“Uh… Panchito?—” Donald started to say, before he got a rather scary look from his friend in return.

“Egh— okay. … José?” He said, still wanting an answer to the question he had.

“Donald?” José looked over, sitting with his legs on either side of a rock, smacking a coconut against it in a futile attempt at opening it.

“If we’ve been on this island for several days… Why was a fire only made _after_ I woke up? How were you guys sleeping at night, wasn’t it cold?”

José stopped hitting the coconut for a few seconds, being very quiet the whole time, before looking away and continuing to bash the poor thing.

“Umm… I don’t… think you would like to know how we kept warm, Donald.” José finally said, recounting how he and Panchito just snuggled around Donald as he slept, since his body heat was the warmest thing there and they were too lazy to build a proper fire, “... All that matters now is that we currently have a fire.”

Donald found that answer very ominous and decided not to question further. He sat in disturbed silence until he was startled by the sound of water splashing and a loud groan from the edge of the island.

“Stupid phone battery lifespan!” Mark Beaks yelled out, frowning at the water as he pulled another of his seemingly endless supply smartphones out of his pocket.

“Stop doing that!” Donald demanded, sick of Mark’s nonsense.

Mark instantly looked to Donald in a disgusted fashion. Even from far away, he was still unpleasant to look at.  
“... What’s it to you?” he asked rhetorically.

“You’re polluting the ocean!!” Donald said, shaking his fists.

“Polluting the-... _Psssh_ ,” Mark scoffed, looking back to his phone and typing, “The ocean hasn’t done a single thing for me, and so what if it’s quote-end-quote _‘important for all life on earth’_? I’ll be off this stinkin’ rock by the time I’m thirty.”

“Hmph, I can’t wait ‘til the rich are eaten.” Donald said to himself. Scrooge would’ve been rolling in his grave, but he’s not dead. Instead he felt a slight prick in his back as he sat in his recliner.  
Mark Beaks shouldn’t have been able to hear it considering their distance, and the fact that he wasn’t Scrooge, but he did anyways.

“What was that?! I can’t understand your accent!” Mark said saltily in Donald’s direction, “Why don’t you go bother your dork friends or something? I’m busy recording my castaway v-logs to post for my followers when I get back.”  
He turned away and did a peace sign towards his phone camera, “What’s up, gang? It’s your boy Mark Beaks here, I’m still stranded on the island and have only eaten coconuts for the past few days but it’s like, no biggie. Anyways, if you liked this update remember to comment ‘Pray For Mark’ one letter at a time below the video!”

Nothing about what Mark Beaks was doing was interesting to Donald in the slightest. In fact, it was terrible witnessing it in front of him, but he couldn’t stop watching…  
Luckily for him, there was something else to distract him.

“¡Hurra!” Panchito shouted, tossing his hands into the air, “It is finally finished!”

“That’s great!” said Donald, getting up from his seat and making his way back over.

“Bom trabalho! Well done, Panchito!” José dropped his unbreakable coconut and went over as well. He and Donald both praised Panchito’s work, impressed that he could get it done so quickly.  
It was much bigger now than it was earlier, and could definitely fit all three of them under the palm-leaf roof. It wouldn’t be waterproof if it rained, but it would certainly be better than trying to stay dry without it, and it would help keep the beating sun off of their heads.  
After inspecting it for a few seconds, Donald gave Panchito a thumbs up.

Meanwhile, Mark Beaks didn’t bother making anything other than that hammock, and was suspiciously unconcerned with anything aside from his phone and his follower status potentially going down with his lack of updates. He sat at the edge of the water with his pants rolled up slightly and his feet dipped in the sea as he typed and typed and typed. What was he writing? No one knows, and we may never find out the truth.


	4. Don't Cry Over Spilled Coconut Milk

It was a new day, and officially the fourth day on the island for The Three Caballeros… And Mark Beaks. The trio woke up early this morning as they didn’t get much sleep that night; they didn’t have time to add padding to their sleeping place before sunset, and the sand beneath the shelter wasn’t very comfortable. Well, at least two thirds of the trio-- Donald and Panchito-- were awake; José was somehow still sound asleep. 

Panchito decided to venture deeper into the island. He thought since they've only been hanging around the edges of the island, they might be missing out on some useful things they could find towards the middle. He took a decently sized stick off of the ground to bring with him; Y’know, just in case. While he did that, Donald decided to go and see what he could find of the things washed up onto shore. Immediately, he finds some glass bottles, a pep soda can, and a broken net. He held them with both hands and looked at them happily, deciding that they were a good find, and took them back to the shelter. 

Meanwhile, Panchito was pushing past large leaves, stabbing his stick in the ground with each step. He was specifically looking for a source of food other than the coconuts, which were okay, but it’s always nice to have options.   
He had thought he saw something skittering across the ground, and turned to follow it. Then he heard what sounded like talking. Something about ‘Beaks gang’ and ‘subscribing’ was said in an excessively obnoxious voice. Panchito moved through the plants, stick firmly in hand, and looked to see who was there.

Ah, of course. It was Mark Beaks. He was talking to his phone again, this time attempting to prop it up on a tree branch, and despite still having to hang onto it with one hand, he pretended his plan was working. 

“So, Beaks gang, I finally did it!” He began, tugging onto a rope that was slung over a tree. On the end of which hung a quite large sack that squirmed a bit, seemingly stitched together with fibers. Huh. Who knew Mark Beaks could sew?

“It took me all night, but I collected every crab on the island!” Mark proudly announced to his camera, “That’s step-one done. Next stop: A fence!”

“What are you doing with those?” Panchito asked in an aggressive manner, stepping out from the greenery with his big ol’ stick.   
Mark turned his head back, wordlessly staring at Panchito then glancing to his phone. He does this a few times, debating whether or not now is a good time to stop recording. After making his decision he immediately brings his phone around to start filming Panchito. 

“Oh, Hey there, Red. Just preparing to make my crab farm V-Logs. No biggie,” He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the screen and hanging onto the crab bag, “Once I get my wifi back, I’m gonna start coming up with names, and then I think I’ll make a separate twitter for each of them.”

Panchito tilted his head and squinted his eyes, finding what was said to him exceedingly bizarre. Not wanting to engage with Mark any longer he took himself, and his big stick, and started to walk back to the shore. 

When he returned he spotted Donald who was collecting branches from the ground and putting them all in one spot. 

“¡Hola, Donald! ¿Qué estás haciendo? What are you up to?” He questioned, walking up to Donald.

“I’m making an S.O.S. for passing planes to see, so they can rescue us!”

“Oh! That’s a good idea! I will get José and we will join you.” Panchito dropped his stick and ran to the shelter to wake his sleeping friend.  
He crouched down beside José, and gently grabbed his shoulder.   
“Wake up, José!” Panchito said, now shaking him violently. “You’ve been sleeping all day, and we have things to do!!” 

José, who planned to sleep through the whole day, was having a nightmare about the debt collector coming for him and attempting to make him give up his sternum and three ribs to make up for the money he owed. He jerked back and forth in his sleep, trying to get Panchito’s hand off. 

" **Eu pago semana que vem, eu juro! Só deixa meus ossos fora disso!!** ” José screamed in terror, flailing his arms around wildly.

Panchito reeled back, narrowly avoiding being smacked in the face, “¡Madres! What is wrong with you??” 

José opened his eyes, realizing the debt collector was nowhere to be found. The only scary thing in front of him was Panchito. “Oh.”

“‘Oh’ indeed.” he said, standing back up and dusting himself off. “... Donald is making an S.O.S signal by the shore. Come, we’re going to help him!”   
With that, Panchito began walking back to meet Donald again.

José, however, was still panicked by his nightmare and stayed put, looking around and double-checking to make sure there weren’t any debt collectors nearby. Could they locate him on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere? Improbable, but still quite possible.   
When people owe you money, you have a special way with things to make collecting money easier. At least, that’s what José thought. It took him a minute, but he eventually worked up the nerve to move from his spot. He yawned, and joined his friends, discreetly looking over his shoulder one last time. 

Donald used a stick and started dragging it across the sand to draw a big, curvy line to form a large ‘S’. Panchito followed Donald, placing stones and leaves in the line to bolden it. José also followed behind Panchito, not doing much of anything aside from dragging his feet as he walked. Two thirds of the Caballeros made the whole sign large enough to see from way above in a pretty decent amount of time, and José at the very end decided to do something and add the final touches, placing three big stones after each letter. 

The trio stood back proudly, admiring their work. They looked on in silence for a while and, it got a little awkward, so José spoke up.

“So… Do you think it’s time for a lunch break?” He asked, scratching his head.

“Great Idea, José!” Donald agreed, “I’m starving!” 

José and Donald sat down under a shady palm-tree as Panchito brought three, huskless coconuts. He leaned over a little bit to hand both of them their lunch.

“Ah, it is a great thing that these coconuts continue to be huskless without any outside interference.” Panchito commented, sitting down beside his friends, and lifting the coconut in front of his face to examine it. “Interesante…”

Using a sharp rock, Donald struck his coconut, making a hole in it. He brought it to his beak and tilted back, drinking the water inside. After he was done, he passed the rock to José, who did the same. Panchito was anti-cooties and instead of sharing, used his own rock to open his coconut. 

“Ugh. I hate manual labor…” Mark Beaks said, dragging a palm-tree leaf behind him. He tossed it in front of himself and took a moment to stare down at it, then he noticed the caballeros.   
“Oh hey guys.” He waved, “I saw you making an S.O.S. and decided to make an objectively better one that’ll guarantee me a ton of Buzz when I get rescued!”

Donald stood up and squinted, gazing down to critique Mark’s signal. He soon realized it didn’t _spell_ anything, it was just weird shapes on the ground.   
“Wh-... Huh?! Yours isn’t better, it doesn’t even have letters!!” Donald yelled, frustrated that Mark would even suggest he could one-up them without having an even decent looking _anything_. 

“Uhh, hell- _oh_? They’re emoticons, dummy.” Mark explained, gesturing oddly towards his work, “See, that one’s a crying face, that one’s an OK hand, that one’s another crying face, and there’s a happy face too, and a few thumbs down, a couple 100’s…” He trailed off, leaving Donald completely baffled. He couldn’t even make out that those were anything aside from rocks and sticks. And how did he make all this without anyone noticing?

“So the rescuers know exactly how distressed we are and will rescue us like, ten times quicker!” Mark continued, “Tsk, I didn’t think it’d be possible for someone under fifty to be _this_ behind the times! L.O.L.”

Donald was about to go buck wild, flippers stomping and fists swinging. If Beaks said one more word he’d lose his hecking mind. He was that fed up. And it seemed Mark was fully prepared for the throw-down seeing as he opened his mouth again.

“Admit it, mine is a masterpiece, and yours is outdated and stinks. But don’t worry- Look! at least the _tide_ seems to like yours!” 

“I— What?!” Donald looked back and saw the ocean waves sweep away his S.O.S., stones and all. Panchito frantically attempted to keep some of the leaves in their place, but the water was too strong and knocked him over too, causing his sombrero to fall off. It turned out that they had made it way too close to the water… 

Donald ran over as quickly as he could, holding his arms out to help Panchito stand up.   
“Muchas gracias, Donald-“ Panchito coughed, hanging onto Donald for support. Mark Beaks pointed at them and laughed hysterically. He pulled out his phone to add another memory to his very large collection of ‘cringy’ videos. But before he could hit record, a seagull swooped down and snatched his phone away. Mark cried out and chased the un-domesticated bird as it flew across the island, futilely trying to get his phone back.

Completely soaked, Donald and Panchito made their way to the tree they briefly enjoyed their lunch under. José was curled up, his face against the tree as he quietly sniffled, holding a chunk of coconut in his hands. Was he… crying?

“J-... José?” Donald said, concerned. He must be upset about the S.O.S…   
“Don’t cry, José… We can rebuild it! Right, Panchito?”

“¡Sí!” Panchito nodded, “And it will be even better than the first one!”

“It… It’s not that.” José began, covering his eyes with his arm, “I… I don’t like coconut.”  
Upon hearing that, Donald and Panchito looked at him with faces that were an even blend of Surprise, Disgust, and Disappointment. 

“Huh?” Donald uttered in disbelief.

“I really want some feijoada. O-or jackfruit from Pedrão’s lawn…” José continued.

After fully comprehending what was said to him, Panchito shook his head, and put a smile on his face. He stopped leaning on Donald and bent over next to José, lightly patting his back.

“No te preocupes,” He said with a soft voice, “Don’t worry, my friend. There are plenty of options on this island!” 

“Oh minhoca? Are there really?” José looked up to Panchito, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“Why, of course!” Panchito got onto his knees, holding José a little closer. “I can think of so many things to eat!”

José gasped and flapped his hands excitedly, "Não acredito que tinham outras comidas nessa ilha miserável esse tempo todo! Elas estavam se escondendo de mim? Quais que são então? Don’t leave me in suspense, Panchito!!”

“Yes, one of the many things you can try instead of the coconut is—“ He pointed beyond the tree to the greenery. “The leaves over there are nice and juicy! Or if that’s not your thing, there’s plenty of rocks on the ground!!”

José started to look very confused, “B-but that’s—“

“And!!” Panchito grabbed a fist full of dirt, still hanging onto José with his other arm, “If you’re still not into that, there’s sand _**everywhere!!**_ ” he gritted his teeth and shoved the sand into José’s chest, letting go of him in the process. He stood up, majorly pissed off.

“Malvado hijo de puta, you’ve got to be kidding me you pinche delicado!!” He tossed his arms into the air, “We are on an island, in the middle of _nowhere!!_ Eat your coconuts and **shut up.** Eres asqueroso…”   
Panchito stomped off, leaving a spooked José cowering on the ground. Neither him, nor Donald was sure what just happened. 

“Panchito, hold on a minute!!” Donald went after him to attempt to find out what was going on with him. 

José sat up and placed his hand on his chest where he practically got punched, watching Panchito and Donald leave him. Mark Beaks took a few steps into frame, holding his phone in his hand with some white feathers sticking out of his clothes.

“Awkward…” Mark said.

It took a minute, but Donald caught up to Panchito, and grabbed his shoulder. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” Donald asked, keeping Panchito from going any further.

Panchito sighed, and took Donald’s hand off. “I’m sleeping on the other side of the island tonight, if that is fine with you.”

“I-I mean sure, but—“ 

“Donald.” Panchito looked him in the eyes, “Él te está mintiendo…” He whispered, “Buenas noches, I will see you tomorrow.”

Panchito walked away into the distance and Donald didn’t follow. He just stared, confused and worried, because he didn’t speak spanish, until Panchito was out of view, then he hesitantly turned back and rejoined José. 

That night, Donald made some padding out of grass and leaves for the shelter, and Panchito did as he said he would, and spent that time away from everyone else. Except Mark Beaks, because he is unavoidable it seems, and just mysteriously loomed around where Panchito slept. 

It was now more clear to Donald than ever that something was up, but he would have to be patient if he was going to find out what exactly it was. 

Unfortunately, the next couple of days were completely unproductive, and Panchito and José spent those nights apart, not speaking to each other at all. Despite the island’s tiny size, it proved easy to avoid someone you didn’t want to see. Except Mark Beaks I guess. Donald couldn’t help but start to think this island would be the end of the Three Caballeros...


End file.
